New White Snake Asking Immortals

I don't know when the rain stopped during the night.

The bright moon is hanging in the sky, and the cloud-like mist-like galaxy is colorful in seven colors. One end is connected to the undulating mountains, across the sky, and falls into the middle of the lake. The fluorescent flying fish fly freely into the reflected galaxy.

In the loess thatched house, moonlight slanted in through the cracks in the windows.

Sprinkled on the face of the sleeping fisherman girl, her eyelids and eyelashes trembled slightly, she was dreaming.

Countless words in the dream flashed before my eyes.

There was an extra knife in my hand. It was straight, with a beveled tip. The heavy feeling in my hand was very real. I couldn't tell whether it was fierce or realistic. Then I started to practice knife skills.

It’s different from the street performers in town.

There is no shape, just use the knife to chop hard, simple and clear, one hand, both hands...

It really feels like you are on the scene, you can feel the details of muscle exertion in every movement, and you can even experience the friction between your feet and the ground.

Practice the most basic movements of knife skills over and over again.

Gradually, the action of drawing the sword becomes a kind of memory, and the sword technique becomes more and more natural and smooth.

I vaguely heard the crow of a chicken.

The dream recedes like the tide, the fisherman girl opens her eyes, and the sky is about to break.

Poor people have to get up early to work and cannot stay in bed. When she got up, her whole body was so sore that the girl almost fell down.

I was even more tired than after working all day, and I didn’t want to get up. However, it was already dawn and I had to go fetch water in the morning.

She endured the pain and got up. Grandpa was still sleeping. The girl quietly went out, grabbed a pole and carried a bucket to collect water from the old well in the village.

It rained too much yesterday and there was water everywhere along the road.

The water in the usually dry ditch makes a splashing sound and looks clear, but it is best not to drink it.

It is easy to get sick if you eat this kind of water. Only well water can be used. Although you have to drink well water if you live by the lake, the water in the lake is not as clean as the well water.

The old well is close to the hillside. The uppermost stone square well is for people to use, and the lower pool is for washing and feeding animals.

After the rainfall, the well leveled up and overflowed, which was extremely cold to the feet.

When passing by the pool below, I noticed the slate used for washing clothes. The village has used this slate for washing clothes for many years. There are words on it. The shallow potholes are particularly good for rubbing clothes. The slate is no stranger. The girl was surprised that she actually Can understand those words...

Completely stunned, she didn't understand why she could read?

Only the scholars in the countryside can read.

Poor people cannot study. Even if they become wealthy, they cannot study. It is against the rules.

My ancestors were scholars but have declined. No matter how poor they are, they are still qualified to study. Rich people are not accepted as ordinary people. Even if they go to private schools, they can only learn to write and read.

The girl from a fisherman's family couldn't afford to study. Her ancestors were not scholars and had never been to a private school in the countryside.

Take another look, not only can you recognize it, but you can also read it...

I vaguely remembered last night's dream and the mysterious rusty scrap metal.

In fact, after waking up in the morning, I deliberately forgot about yesterday’s experience and had no plans to tell my grandfather. I wanted to bury everything and continue my fishing life as before. The more mysterious the scrap iron is, the more frightened the girl is. Poor people really can’t afford it. After much effort, it backfired.

Somehow the word fate came to mind.

Rubbing his temples, he walked to the stone slab and read it carefully. It was not a tombstone.

The content should be ancient poetry, nothing special.

He stood by the well until his neighbors came to fetch water. Then he silently filled two wooden buckets with water, bent down and used all his strength, and jumped into the water to go home.

The water-filled pole trembled and creaked.

When I got home and entered the courtyard, I saw that the scrap metal against the wall outside the door was still there.

Grandpa had already gotten up, said hello, carried water through the door and poured the water into the broken vat.

The next step is to make a skillful fire to cook, put the whole grain porridge into the pot, put a wooden stick on top, put the broken bowl with small fish and crabs on the wooden stick, sprinkle salt grains, and cover the wooden pot lid.

Then he squatted in front of the stove and stared at the flames in a daze.

The room was a little dark, as the villagers got up earlier and the sun didn't fully come out.

You can hear the sound of grandpa letting chickens, ducks and geese out in the yard. The chickens go up the mountain to eat insects, and the ducks and geese go to the lake. This life is repeated every day.

Rub your forehead to stop yourself from thinking.

Time passed quickly.

After finishing the meal while squatting on the stove with my grandfather, I rubbed my sore legs and got up to go out.

It rained yesterday so there was a lot of fog, the white clouds were rising, the east was getting brighter and brighter, and the first ray of sunshine in the morning shone on the girl.

The girl who picked up the tools and got ready to work saw the sacred mountain at the end of the lake again.

The old man in the village said that it was a mountain transformed into a dragon, and there were all kinds of strange legends. Just yesterday, she witnessed the formation of the sacred mountain with her own eyes, and remembered the beauty of the dragon girl and her deep dragon eyes.

I can't help but think wildly.

Suddenly he paused and stared blankly at the sky.

She saw many strange things in the sky. She wanted to take a closer look but they were gone. She thought it was an illusion and didn't pay attention to it. In fact, they were the essence of the soft morning sun...

The scrap iron placed against the wall at the door silently affects the sun's essence, guiding it to pour into the girl's mouth and nose.

Moisturizes things silently and strengthens them silently.

The girl didn't know.

Time passes.

I thought my life would change because of that rusty knife, but apart from my sudden literacy and daily dreams, there were no obvious changes.

During the day, he fished or repaired boats. Occasionally, he went to weed the vegetable fields and chop firewood in the mountains.

Day after day, busy and boring.

Slowly, the girl finally realized that she was stronger and could hold up to three men by herself.

His body reacts faster and he has sharp ears and eyes. In the past, the hit rate of spearfishing was very low. Now, as long as his eyes can see it, he can spear fish. No matter carp or snakehead, he can't escape. Even the experienced old fishermen in the village can't compare with him.

There is another strange thing.

Since the storm that day, the grandfather and grandson have never had nightmares again, and they sleep very well at night.

Grandpa thought the scrap metal was too heavy and had not been touched, so he went to the blacksmith to melt ship nails and kept it against the wall outside the door. It rained several times during this period, and the rain splashed mud and left half of the scrap metal covered in earth.

Until one night.

The girl dreamed of Tianzhu Mountain again and appeared in the ice cave again.

When I wanted to take a closer look, the dream suddenly receded. When I opened my eyes, I heard my grandfather's breathing and the sound of crickets chirping in the corner of the room. Although I woke up from the dream, the picture could not be shaken from my mind.

I couldn't fall asleep after tossing and turning, so I just put on my clothes and went outside for fear of waking my grandpa.

The night is quiet and the moon is bright.

The moon is carried by clouds, one in the sky and one in the calm lake, illuminating the quiet small fishing village.

"call"

He took a long breath and felt a cool breath enter his throat.

The corner of his eye inadvertently glanced at the piece of scrap metal against the wall, and by accident, he walked over and grabbed the handle of the knife, raised it, and instinctively turned it around to draw a sword.

"..."

Movements are skillful and natural.

He grasped the palm of his hand, staggered his feet, and swung the knife as he had practiced countless times.

The weapon whimpered as it cut through the air, the knife suddenly paused after falling, and the girl remained motionless.

So familiar.

It's no longer strange now.

Take a deep breath, draw the sword sharply and attack continuously, domineering, the sword technique moves forward step by step, sharp and deadly.

The clouds in the sky have already drifted into the distance, and the bright moon is surrounded by a circular moon halo.

In the quiet fishing village, in the small yard, the sword skills are getting faster and faster...